


Peppermint Fixed

by DustToDust



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustToDust/pseuds/DustToDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim, apparently, really likes peppermint. Much to the detriment of others around him when he gets his hands on some.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus for the 12 Days of JayTim. Inappropriate use of a candy cane.

He's not doing it on purpose. Jason narrows his eyes and snarls at the monitor as he comes to this frustrating conclusion.

Timothy Drake continues through his boring ass day on the screen. Completely unaware that he's being observed as he shuffles paper around his desk or taps rapidly on his keyboard. Only occasionally being interrupted by people coming in to talk to him. Not one single interesting bit about his _real_ job has slipped out of him since Jason had the _brilliant_ idea to bug the fucker's office a week ago.

Just project after problem after rushed deals. How he hasn't hung himself --or any of the mouth breathers he talks to on a daily basis-- is beyond Jason. Just watching him is enough to make _Jason_ want to slam his head into a brick wall. Repeatedly. He would've destroyed the little bug after the first day, saved himself the pain, if it weren't for one small thing.

The festive looking jar of goddamn candy cane striped sticks just to the right of the computer screen.

They're four inches long and about an inch thick with the traditional peppermint flavoring minus the annoying hook that always break off on any candy cane Jason's ever had. He'd taken one when he was breaking and entering. Had considered taking them all, but that would've prompted some sort of scan and he'd wanted his bug to remain in place as long as possible.

It's a decision Jason both regrets and loves making.

Tim pauses in his typing, leaning back and rolling his head. Grimacing a little as he holds his head to one side. Stretching the muscles of his left neck and shoulder which are probably still tight and sore from the throw Jason knows he'd fumbled the night before. He leans back in and clicks around with his mouse a bit. Eyes flickering across the screen before dropping down to the jar.

Jason's boots thump to the ground as he sits up and leans in towards the monitor. This is it. The reason why he's still watching Tim's boring ass.

The sticks aren't wrapped, so Tim doesn't have to fight with any cellophane when he fishes one out. His eyes already back on the screen, and something has his interest because he's not even paying one damn bit of attention to the candy he just presses against his bottom lip. The tip denting his bottom lip --and Jason just _had_ to use the really good camera for this didn't he?-- just enough for his tongue to flicker out. A barely seen flash that licks along the tip of the stick as Tim continues to read.

Tim's eyes narrow as he thinks through a few options. It's a face that Jason is familiar with, and one he dreads seeing in person again because his mouth always opens. Just that little bit more, and he's fucking _kissing_ the candy stick. Resting the tip just on his lips, stretching them open just enough that Jason can imagine what they'd look like stretched even wider. His tongue licking the end of the stick and pressing a little past his lips. His throat moving as he swallows just a little.

It's such an innocently obscene picture. The candy stick and Tim's cock sucking lips wrapped around it. Such a damn nice sight that it's taken Jason the entire week to figure out it's not on purpose. That this is something Tim just _does_. And that revelation only makes the whole thing a hundred times hotter.

Tim's lip curls up on one side and he looks satisfied. Obviously having reached a decision that no one is going to expect and he knows that. He opens his mouth wider and pushes the stick in. A few inches because it's only got a couple and he needs both hands to type some response out. 

"Fuck," Jason still wants to bang his head on a wall as he watches Tim's throat move again. Swallowing around the candy. It moves slightly. Back and forth as he sucks it. Rolling his tongue around it, and then swallows again. Jason reaches down and adjusts himself. His pants getting just a bit uncomfortable as he watches. His dick hardening as he imagines Tim swallowing down around something much larger than that stick.

The typing stops and Tim sits back. Reaching up to drag the candy out of his mouth. Slowly. It's shiny with spit and Tim's lips are red when he licks his lips. Tongue rubbing at the corners of his mouth for the flavor that has to linger there. Jason wants to groan when he taps the stick against his lower lip. Leaving it slick and sticky looking for a few seconds before sucking his lip in to clean it off.

Jason's quickly losing the debate he has every time Tim reaches for the candy jar. The one that pits his pride against his dick. He's already rubbing himself through his pants as Tim wraps his lips around the stick again. Moving his head down this time, and, _Jesus_ , that's perfect right there. He's fucking _blowing_ a candy stick and has no idea. No fucking clue what kind of a show he's putting on for Jason.

His jeans snap open and Jason groans as he gets his hand around his dick. Hard almost from the second Tim flipped the lid on that damn jar, because Jason's nearly conditioned it to react that way. From just a _week_. Fuck. He's pathetic.

It's just so easy though. To stare at Tim's red mouth. To stroke in time with the way he lazily moves the candy in and out of his mouth. To imagine the slick flicker of that tongue on him. Jason twists his hand up under the head of his dick. Leaning back and arching up into his own fist as Tim sucks the stick back into his mouth. His cheeks hollowing out, and that would feel so damn good around Jason.

Jason grunts as he comes fast. Eyes open and fixed on the screen as Tim switches hands and sucks sticky sugar off of his fingers. Cleaning his hand thoroughly before going back down on the fucking stick. 

Tim limits himself to three sticks a day. A little unevenly spaced through the work day. Jason's got until lunch to go out and do shit. Maybe get so caught up in something he doesn't come running back early just so he doesn't miss the second treat of the day.

"You're pathetic, Todd," Jason growls to himself as he gets up. Knowing already that he is going to be counting seconds the whole time he's out, and he can't find it in himself to even care anymore. "Real, pathetic."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And for the actual theme of today; Gift shopping.

It’s Dick’s idea. Jason’s sure of it, because it just reeks of his particular brand of sadism. And it _is_ sadism, because whoever came up the idea of Secret Santa gift exchanges had to have come from some sort of hell dimension. Not when Jason _supposedly_ had the luck to draw Tim’s name out of Dick’s imaginary hat for this game.

Jason would have laughed in the fucker’s face when Dick tracked him down to inform him of his decision to play the happy family they really weren’t. He would have, but the dickhead had tracked him down while they were both in plain clothes and brought the ultimate weapon along with him. Alfred.

No one could say no to Alfred’s raised eyebrow and the hint of disappointment in his eyes. Not even Jason. Especially not Jason. He’d caved faster than a dealer with two already broken hands.

Which leaves Jason glaring at the cracked walls of his newest bolthole the day the big dinner and merry festivities have been planned. Time counts down and Jason can feel it as it happens. As the night looms closer with all the unpleasantness and disappointment that marks Jason’s dealings with any of the Bats these days.

He’s tempted to not go. To just suit up and hit the streets. Make his excuses later that he’d gotten caught up in a crime, or not, because who the fuck were they to call him out on anything? It’s tempting. Really tempting, but Jason knows better than to promise something to Alfred and not follow through on it. It’s just not something that can be done. Not without wanting to die of massive shame when Alfred finally gets a hold of him afterwards.

Jason can’t even show up fashionably late without risking Alfred’s ire.

Which, Jason checks the time with a grimace, means he should leave right about now. Jason rolls off the couch he’d found on a roof and grabs his jacket. He shrugs it on and eyes a gray plastic bag next to the door. It’s thin and has some words printed on it that Jason hadn’t paid one damn bit of attention to the entire week he’s had the thing. Dropped next to the door for him to stare at occasionally as he hated life in general.

He wants to leave it. To just show up empty handed and give a smirk and flippant answer when the gift exchange is supposed to take place. He can do it. Any disapproval he gets from not playing along will be restrained by the fact that he’s sticking around for it, and no one will actually be surprised. Jason doesn’t have to bring the cheap present.

Jason kicks the splintering wood of his door. Watching the wood jump and shudder in the frame. He growls and reaches down. Snagging one loop of the bag before going out. Cursing himself and knowing he’s going to regret this before the night’s over.

~

Jason starts regretting it almost as soon as he arrives, the last of their happy little family despite how early he left. Jason walks in on the sort of tense air that’s common when they don’t have other heads to kick in. Jason wonders what argument his arrival has stopped, and how likely it is to pick right back up when they all sit down to eat.

"Alright," there’s a hint of a cackle as Dick claps his hands together. Damian and Tim flinch at the loud sound and everyone looks about as enthused as Jason feels. It’s obvious Dick has spent the past week reveling in the pain and suffering he’s caused. From Cass’ confused frown to the absolute blankness on Bruce’s face, they’re all dreading this night for their own reasons. Dick brandishes a red wrapped gift like a weapon and Steph makes a wounded noise as she sinks even further down onto the floor. Almost hiding behind the wheel of Babs’ chair. "Let the gifting commence!"

Dick says it in the same tone he uses to greet muggers who have a really old grandma cornered. Full of glee and wrath, and fully enjoying the absolute bloodbath that he knows is about to happen.

Babs accepts the wrapped box with an entirely too amused smile, because she’s the only one crazy enough not to be wary. She gives Dick a flat box wrapped in blue in exchange and Jason shouldn’t be so surprised. Of course Dick rigged the whole thing. He’s further not surprised when Damian grudgingly shoves a beautifully —-and paid for, Jason has no doubt-— wrapped box towards Steph. He gets a sloppy wrapped rectangle of dancing snowmen thrown at his head almost hard enough to be impressive. Cass carefully places a round gift next to the kid that’s been hanging around more lately. Colin, despite having the bad luck to call Damian a friend is alright enough, seems equally delighted and embarrassed as he hands over what Jason knows is a rather cheap box of chocolates. Bruce doesn’t move, but there’s a gray wrapped box on the arm of his chair about the size of the customary tie Alfred requests every year.

It’s a standard exchange. Made with light banter and pleasant chatter that sets Jason’s teeth on edge. More so when he finds himself the center of fucking attention. Jason scowls at them all before kicking off from the wall he’s been leaning against and walking toward the couch enough to throw the bag at Tim’s head. Tim rolls his eyes as the bag crinkles in his hands and offers up an obnoxious looking gift bag with _sequins_ on it. “Nice wrapping. No effort at all and the receipt’s still in the bag. I like your style.”

"Like you can talk," Jason snaps back as he retreats to the wall just next to the door. The paper in the bag makes noise as he moves. His fingers brush against a piece of tape on the edge that holds a receipt inside of it. "Just because your bag’s prettier doesn’t mean you didn’t do the same damn thing."

"I was being serious," Tim says with just enough of a smirk to tell Jason he’s lying his ass off. Tim turns to look at Dick and raises just one eyebrow. In an almost perfect replica of the look Alfred gives them all when he’s humoring them about something ridiculous. "Happy now?"

"Delirious," Dick says, ignoring the venom thinly hidden in Tim’s voice as he carefully examines his gift. He doesn’t immediately rip into it though, just tucks it between his leg and the couch. A rarity considering Jason barely edges the older man out in the impatience department. "I’ll be even happier if you _all_ managed to follow my instructions."

Jason nearly laughs. No purely practical gifts, nothing insulting, and is something the receiver would actually want. Three simple little instructions that Jason knows damn well gave them all trouble, because most gifts in their family are tips on gang movements or brand new weapons. Thoughtful gifts with meaning just weren’t their strong point.

"I like," Cass hasn’t waited like everyone else. Her box is open and three chocolates are already gone. She’s carefully examining the sheet that tells what flavor each one is and is picking through the box for the next one. Fingers carefully walking over each bit and she’s smiling.

Colin’s got a fluffy looking scarf wrapped around his hands. Copper colored and warm looking which butts up against the practical rule, but the wide ass grin on the kid’s face is enough to make that not matter. “Thank you.”

It’s heartwarming and breaking all at the same time and Jason just feels all sorts of uncomfortable. They ought to be recording this, make their own after school special to sell to the public.

Dick rounds on Tim. Leading with his elbow much to the other man’s obvious discomfort. “Alright, let’s see how Jason did.”

"I’d be more worried about Damian," Tim mutters as Jason contemplates the sad fact that he was disarmed at the door and has nothing heavy or sharp to throw. Alfred had even taken the boot knife Jason honestly forgot he was carrying.

"Gee, thanks," Steph says as Damian makes an indignant noise. She’s peeling back the paper cautiously. Not moving the box and obviously checking for wires or triggers as she goes. Slowly revealing a white box with some fancy gold lettering on it that means whatever is in there is doubtlessly expensive as fuck.

"It’s fine," Babs is methodically unfolding her gift. No tape was used, the paper folded up like origami that comes apart under her fingers easily. She doesn’t have to say anything more. It’s understood with those two words that Oracle had scouted out each gift before hand. Probably even had footage for each one being wrapped. Or bagged. Jason side eyes Babs who’s smiling as she folds the paper up into a tiny square. Ignoring the unmarked book in her lap for the moment. He wonders if she’s already bugged his place, or if she’s just been following him through traffic and store cameras again.

Either is equally likely, but it’s probably both.

"Really?" Dick says, and the man is amused. Jason looks back over and finds him looking over Tim’s shoulder into the bag. Dick twists back to look at Jason. "Did you forget and stop at a gas station today?"

"Fuck off," Jason snorts, ignoring Dick’s question.

He _had_ done exactly that. Except it was several days ago and Jason _hadn’t_ been planning to even get a gift. He’d just seen it. On a shelf with a bunch of other cheap holiday shit. A set of four candy canes in the shape of spoons. Boxed up in a flimsy box with all the ‘tasty’ drinks that could be made with them written across it in eye searing colors. Jason had just stood there and _looked_ at it. Silently disgusted with himself and the universe at large, because it was actually too perfect not to get.

He’s regretting it now, because Tim looks honestly shocked and pleased as he pulls the box out. His lips turning up very slightly, and Jason has to look away because he’s been thinking way too much about those lips lately for his own sanity.

Jason brings up his gift and forces himself to think about what he’s going to have to pretend to like for all of the five minutes it takes Dick to be satisfied. Pushing the paper aside Jason feels something soft at the bottom of the bag that he pulls out to get a good look at. It’s a set of butter soft, black gloves. Leather ones that won’t last a single night on the streets, but would be great to wear when he drives himself back to the place he calls home later in the night. Better than the cracked pair he wore when he drove his bike up earlier. The inside is some ridiculously soft fabric, and probably cost more than he wants to think about.

"Thanks," Tim says, and there’s enough sincerity in his voice to make Dick blink. Turning back to give Tim a questioning look. Tim grins and shrugs sheepishly. "What? I like peppermint."

"Understate much?" Steph snorts. She’s picking through a bunch of tiny bottles. Pastel colored and probably scented. She seems reluctantly pleased, an expression mirrored on Damian’s face as he flips through a few gift cards. "The only thing he likes more than peppermint is coffee."

"And look at that," Tim says as he tilts the wrapped box to read some of the printed suggestions, "now I can have both."

Bruce makes a stiffled noise. The parts of his face not covered by his hand is still blank, but his eyes are warm and he’s laughing. So is Babs, but her eyes are a bit more mocking and focused on Jason. And that’s a very knowing look, damn her. Jason grimaces and wonders what it’s going to cost him to keep her quiet.

"Whatever," Jason drops the bag and tucks the gloves into his back pocket. They won’t last long but Jason’s willing to admit he likes them enough to not care. "We going to be eating soon or not?"

"It will be a while yet," Alfred says as he comes in the room with a tray set on wheels that probably has a specific name. The man smiles as his eyes take in everyone in the room, and that’s enough to temper Jason’s groan as he automatically takes a steaming mug of coffee. "I’m sure you can all entertain yourselves properly until dinner."

From the mean grins on Babs and Dick’s faces there’s already a planned schedule of ‘entertainment’ ready to be sprung on them. Thoughts about what the next level of suffering that’s coming fade from his mind when Jason looks up from his cup.

Tim has a thoughtful look on his face as he accepts his cup, and his eyes fix on the box in a way that makes Jason’s stomach drop. He already knows what’s going to happen even as Tim’s thumb pops through the thin wrap around the box. No one else pays the move any damn bit of attention. Which just goes to prove Jason’s theory that Tim has no idea what he’s doing.

Shit, shit, _shit_. Jason can _smell_ the faint trace of peppermint and his dick really is conditioned now. And, no, Jason’s not doing this now. He’s not. Jason pushes off the wall abruptly and is out the door before Tim can finish pulling the cellophane around the spoons off. A laugh follows him out of the room and he’s not sure if it’s Babs or Steph’s.

~

Ten minutes pass in utter peace and silence as Jason relaxes on the counter in the kitchen right next to the refrigerator. His favorite spot when he used to live in the manor despite how often he got a pointed look from Alfred for it. It’s a spot that Jason’s noticed has always been kept clean and free of clutter.

"I hate you," Dick darkens the doorway with his body and a glare. He stands there with his arms crossed and looks _traumatized_. Like he’s seen into the abyss and the abyss has stared back and told him his fly is down.

Jason laughs and toasts Dick with his second cup of coffee, because _that_ is sweet vindication right there. Serves the bastard right for using Alfred to force this get together.

"You _knew_!" Dick accuses, and there’s a note of grudging admiration there now. Dick knows he’s been set up and out of them all he’s the one who can appreciate a good bit of revenge the most. "That he’d-" Dick makes a vague gesture.

"Blow. The word you’re looking for is blow, Dickie," Jason grins as Dick flinches when he repeats the word. He sets his mug down with a click and leans forward on his knees. "You know, as in blow job? Fellatio, oral sex, BJ, sucking of-"

"Stop! Dammit, Jay," Dick goes sideways. Just enough to smack his head into the door jamb a few times. "I don’t need those images!"

Yeah, neither did Jason, hence his retreat to the kitchen. He smirks and thinks about getting more coffee while enjoying Dick’s pain. The kitchen is warm and filled with the scent of cooking food and the sound of Dick whimpering. It’s a cozy atmosphere, and Jason almost decides that coming here was worth it.

"I’m surprised you rabbited out of there like that though," Dick interrupts Jason’s thoughts. Sly and amused again, because Dick never really stays down for long. Jason looks over and Dick’s grinning. Already recovered from his trauma, and pushing again. Looking for soft spots because Dick isn’t Dick unless he can _be_ a dick. "Afraid to pitch a tent in front of family?"

"Well, there are children present," Jason says with a smile that’s just a smidge too forced going by the immediate gleam in Dick’s eyes. "I figured Alfred wouldn’t approve of a live porno in the manor."

Dick doesn’t jump on the obvious opening Jason gave him. Doesn’t jump all over the fact that Tim with candy is a porno all by himself. He’s got a better target obviously and Jason’s hand slides across the counter without thought. “Aw, should I have hung mistletoe up for you? All you had to do was say the word, Jaybird! You know your big brother’ll always be your wing man.”

The best thing about his spot on the counter, Jason thinks as his fingers hit wood, is his proximity to the knife block. Dick cackles as he springs away from the door jamb. The knife embedding right where his smug ass face just was. “Fuck off!”

The laugh fades as Dick retreats. For the moment. Jason hops off the counter to refill his cup, and to find something strong to lace it with. He should’ve left the damn spoons on the shelf.

~

Later, the manor smells faintly of smoke and tear gas despite their best efforts to air it all out. The smell will linger for a few weeks before going away. No major injuries though and Dick’s counting it as another step in the right direction. He’ll take the verbal war that had been dinner over an out and out physical one.

Last year they’d all had to get stitches before Alfred would serve dessert.

Alone, Dick plucks out a disc from an unmarked box and slips it into his laptop. A customized menu pops up. Christmas music plays softly and Dick can scroll down a list of video clips. Getting brief previews of what each one is off to the side.

Stephanie dithers in front of a rack of cards, and has that particular look of ‘fuck it’ that speaks a lot about how far she’s gone looking for a gift. Cass intently studies a bunch of scarves, giving them the same look she gives hostage takers while a traumatized saleswoman hovers just behind her. Colin reluctantly picks up a box, protesting even as Damian pulls him to a register. Damian stands in the middle of a department as three different sales womaen and a man who might be the manager scramble around him. Tim looks ready to pull his hair out as he’s accosted by a salesman who looks to be in the same boat, they give each other near identical looks of panic. Dick’s going to be disappointed if there isn’t an alternate track with a documentary style voice over for that one. Jason stands in a store -—it _is_ a gas station, he knew it!—- with a pained and long suffering look on his face as he glares at something on the shelf.

"Well?" Babs asks over the phone. Her voice amused and sly in a way that can still make Dick’s heart pound.

"You are the best gift giver ever," Dick admits freely. Scrolling up to start with the first clip. Babs has obviously ordered them in a specific way to save the best for last, and has her own reasons for it all.

"Obviously," Babs says and she’s smug now but she has that right. There are a series of clips showing different time stamps and locations. Not all of them are the standard cameras set up by the store. "And what do you have planned for our Red boys?"

"Oh, I’ll think of something," Dick listens to Babs’ laughter and forgives her for keeping this secret from him. His face must’ve been something the see earlier, and Babs deserves any amusement she can get for the pure gold she gave him on the DVD.

That in no way means he won’t be finding a way to pay her back for it though. Dick hangs up the phone and relaxes back into the couch to watch what Babs’ cameras picked up for him of his siblings’ efforts to play nice. Ideas already turning over in the back of his mind as he watches Steph make the mistake of telling a store clerk Damian’s age when asking for help.

He kinda wishes she’d bought the plastic turtle the perky woman immediately points out to Steph.


End file.
